


rhapsody in red.

by mmmmmack



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All Romance is Background, Background Cullen Rutherford/Original Male Character, Gen, Little Red Riding Hood AU, Nonbinary Inquisitor (Dragon Age), a little coming of age, father figure solas is peak solas, just a wholesome wolf dad and his feral elf kid, lore adjacent rather than canon compliant, main character is nonbinary!, more characters will be added as the story progresses!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmmmack/pseuds/mmmmmack
Summary: As the two began to walk toward their home, Mio noticed something that sounded like words being carried on the breeze. The rambling was speaking too fast for them to make sense of anything, but they understood that it was in Elvish. Their eyebrows knitted together, perplexed, and they turned in the direction the wind was coming from. Out of all the jumbled nonsense, two words stood out to them, repeated over and over.“Bana… fen...”Little Red Riding Hood wasn’t afraid of the Wolf, but rather, was fascinated by him. The Wolf didn’t want to eat Little Red Riding Hood, but rather, wanted to be left alone. The two would come to make a rather interesting pair.
Relationships: Lavellan & Solas, Solas & Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. nascence.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little red riding hood au! the main character uses they/them pronouns! the main relationship is familial, not romantic! i owe this whole endeavor to my lovely, wonderful beta [badlydrawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlydrawn) (ao3)/[goldsfake](https://goldsfake.tumblr.com) (tumblr). this wouldn't have happened without her.

From the tops of the trees in the Brecilian Forest, their curly hair forced back from their face by the wind, Mioluvun Eshera felt unstoppable. No matter how many times they had climbed this specific tree, the one next to it, or the next, the forest had a magnetic power over them that led to an idyllic sense of calm and peace. Their eyes fluttered shut as they focused on the environment around them— birds chirping in the surrounding branches, a stream babbling to the east, wind whistling in the leaves. The uppermost level of the forest was a second home to Mio, a respite. 

The treetops were an escape, in the literal sense at the moment.

“Mio!” the voice of their brother called. “Mio, where are you?”

At the sound of their name, they flinched, eyebrows creasing as the peace was broken. Instead of responding, they crouched down on the tips of their toes, with their hands between their feet. A soft white glow enveloped their body and in their place was a dark, tortoiseshell cat. The cat leapt gracefully from the tree’s limbs and softly padded around onto the grass below. 

“Mio, where— ah!” Elias, Mio’s brother, cuts himself off with a shout at the emergence of the calico from the underbrush. 

The cat twisted and turned through the man’s legs, forward and back, pressing its cheek against his calf, purring loudly. Looking up at him, its eyes seemed to hold an open, joking expression, nearly taunting him before head butting his calf and mewling softly.

“Oh, hello,” Elias said, bending down to pet the creature. “Have you seen my…”

Elias’s sentence tapered off slowly as he had an epiphany. Even after spending nearly half his life with Mio and their parents, their shapeshifting prowess still surprised him and made him fall prey to jokes and pranks regularly. 

Almost simultaneously to Elias’s realization, the cat had one as well, its ears twitching back and forth as if they were searching for something, its tail swinging low to the ground.

“Change back,” Elias sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Mio giggled as much as one could while in the form of a cat, delighting in the grief they caused their brother. It was all too easy to trick him; Mio took advantage of his protective nature, shifting into small animals to lure him in. Almost taunting him, they contorted to lay on their back, paws playing with the air and letting out an innocuous meow. Then, as if beckoning him to follow, they righted themself and started off in a trot, following a lazy zig-zag pattern, before taking off at full speed when he got too close. 

“Mio, I swear,” Elias muttered to himself before begrudgingly running off after it. 

Seeing their brother quickly catch up to them, another white glow surrounded the creature and was replaced with the small elf. Mio let out a harsh laugh when they turned to see their brother roll his eyes behind them, already starting to become winded. 

“It _is_ easier to run like this!” Mio called back to him. “I appreciate the suggestion!”

“Mio,” Elias called out, “stop running! We’re both too old for this!”

The comment only made Mio laugh more. “That sounds like something you would say if you knew you couldn’t catch me.” 

“I shouldn’t have to catch you,” Elias said, breathing heavily. “You shouldn’t be running in the first place.”

“Fine, fine,” Mio relented, slowing to a gentler pace. “When did you become such an old man?”

Elias chuckled softly before leaning against a tree, running a hand through his dark hair. Still panting, he leaned toward Mio to place a hand on their shoulder. One of his eyebrows lifted upward in a silent question, _What’s wrong?_

Mio brushed his hand away, the tension apparent in their muscles. Hiding their emotions was never their strong suit, falling back on using their wild hair to cover their twitching ears. They smile in an attempt to hide anyway, a smile that says, _I’m fine, no need to worry._ Their eyes, however, told a different tale. Sneaking a glance at their brother’s face, Mio could see the worry and concern in his eyes. He was too young to have wrinkles, yet they spiderwebbed along the edges of his eyes and forehead. Something like shame made them avoid his gaze, knowing they were the cause of most of those lines. They tried again for a smile and based on Elias’s reaction, it hadn’t worked any better the second time. Their brother sat down, leaning heavily against the tree. He then patted the spot next to him, prompting Mio to sit.

“What’s the matter, Mio?” he asked after Mio had taken a seat.

“Nothing’s the matter!” Mio said, shifting away before Elias grabbed their arm to keep them still.

“Is it because I’m moving?”

“It’s not— that isn’t, I’m just...” Mio tripped over their words. Articulating their thoughts had always come easy to them, but Elias's most recent announcement had made talking difficult.

Elias had met a man, spent too many months pining and being disgustingly pleasant, before revealing that he was to be married. 

This man, Rutherford-something-or-other, was good looking enough; he was the tallest person Mio had met, had a good-natured personality, and was respectful. He couldn’t climb trees or skip rocks, but Mio and Elias came to a compromise on that. _As long as he makes you happy,_ Mio’s mother had said. The wedding was lovely, with lots of food and drink to go around, lasting long into the early hours of the morning. Mio sat with their arms crossed throughout the entire ceremony, though. The wedding itself wasn’t the problem, rather what the wedding represented. At this point, Mio had lived more years with Elias than years without him, and watching him fall in love made them realize they weren’t ready for him to leave yet. At the expense of his happiness, though? It all felt incredibly selfish and naive. _As long as he makes you happy._ Anyone who looked at them, even just for a second, could see that he did. If Elias was content, Mio supposed they could make this single, greedy sacrifice. 

However, when the newlyweds announced they’d be moving to Highever, all the rationalizing and accepting Mio had done was throw to the wind immediately, once again becoming a petulant child.

Mio sighed loudly and dramatically before flopping down on the soft grass and placing their hands under their head as a cushion. Jealousy wasn’t the correct term for what they were feeling; they weren’t jealous of the charming, handsome man taking their brother away from them. It wasn’t so sinister and vile as that, but softer, more innocent. Something like a tired resentment had taken hold of them and snaked its way throughout Mio’s body, dragging them lower and lower into an uncontrollable sea of annoyance and envy. 

They inhaled a sharp breath through their nose, then looked up at the trees above them.

“Do you think you’ll actually miss me that much?” Elias asked once Mio finished their tantrum. His eyes were soft, smirking at his younger sibling.

Mio reflexively opened their mouth to give a sarcastic response, but stopped themself, deflating just as fast. They nodded simply, looking at their brother, and then away.

“You don’t need to. I’m not moving to Rivain or the Imperium. I’ll be close, as close as I can be,” their brother explained.

“The problem isn’t _where_ you’re moving, Elias,” Mio stood up, shouting to the air, “the problem is you’re moving at all!” 

“Mio…”

An intense burning emerged from behind Mio’s eyes and their hands were shaking with adrenaline. Pushing the ball of the thumb to their eyes in order to hide the oncoming tears, Mio began pacing. They forcefully shoved their hair to cover their ears, ashamed of crying at all. Trying to ignore the rising childish outburst was quickly becoming impossible, but they chased after a futile attempt despite that. The older Mio got, the more disdain they felt for their own behaviors, thinking they should be more reserved. In the past few weeks, though, they had tried to be mature and understanding about the move, but burying the feelings wasn’t the same as coming to terms with them. All at once, annoyance, jealousy, and resentment broke through Mio’s defenses like an ocean through a dam, making them feel small and uncomfortably vulnerable.

“Did you think we would stay in the forest forever, chasing after each other and swimming in rivers?” Elias asked gently. His eyebrows raised slightly and the corner of his mouth quirked up, expression sincere. 

“No, but I thought—”

He moved to bring Mio’s hands away from their eyes slowly. “Did you think we would stay young forever and never grow older?”

“No, of course not,” an exasperated huff left Mio, their hands squeezing Elias’s, “but I thought… I thought we would have more time.”

Elias’s head tilted to one side at that, confused. 

All the adrenaline previously coursing through Mio had left them, making them an empty husk. The once calming wind blowing through the leaves now felt violent, whipping through them as if they were a small boat in the middle of the ocean. When they properly looked at their brother, their eyes were puffy and red, their bottom lip caught between their teeth. Their breathing was uneven, stilted at times, but quiet.

“It feels like you just got here,” Mio explained, voice on the verge of breaking, but childlike in tone, “and now you’re leaving.”

Mio stopped their pacing then, their body feeling a strange tiredness that didn’t have a source, and they sat next to their brother on the grass, fidgeting.

“Do I sound childish?” they asked, a hesitant smile forming on their lips. The foreign exhaustion left Mio like molasses steadily rolling down bark; the relief that took its place was much more comfortable. Mio moved their hair behind their ears, exposing how they shifted from drooping slightly to a more upright position.

Elias snorted, the same fond smile returning once again. “Incredibly.”

“I don’t mean to,” Mio leaned their head on one hand. “I suppose not having you here is daunting, different.”

Elias shook his head. “My joining your family was different, wasn’t it? You adapted to that change, and will follow suit with this one.”

His comment reminded Mio of when Elias started living with their family a decade ago. Mio’s parents had found him wandering alone near the edge of the forest when he was 15, dehydrated and starving. They took him in, nursed him back to health, and Mio gained an unwanted older sibling. Though hazy, they remembered clinging onto their father’s tunic, hiding from the strange human boy in their house. After a while, Mio warmed up to him and attached themself to his hip, relishing in having another child around.

“I hate when you’re right,” Mio replied, smirking.

“If not you or I, who else is left to _be_ right?”

The pair of mismatched siblings leaned against each other and shared in each other’s laughter, enjoying the forest of their childhood and now, adulthood, for what feels like the last time. After the laughter quieted down to a giggle, then a chuckle, Elias placed a hand on top of Mio’s head and looked at them with a pained fondness. 

Elias would miss being around Mio as well. They made life interesting, a bright beacon of hilarity and happiness in all things. But they were prone to immaturity, and for some reason, adverse to growing up, something that was apparent as they grew from an unruly child into a rowdy young adult. 

“I’m not leaving forever,” he said to them. “I’ll come home to visit, you know. Mama won’t let me be gone for too long without showing my face.”

“The house will still be one soul short,” Mio responded.

“But no less cheerful, Mio.”

Mio couldn’t help but smile; their brother was so calm, a lighthouse in a storm. The two had always been opposite of each other, the sun and the moon. Mio supposed it wouldn’t be too terrible to become more like Elias, more mature and grounded. They supposed it was time for them to grow up.

“Ah, I don’t think Mama expected it would take this long for me to get you back home,” Elias admitted, the back of his neck burning.

“You won’t be the one in trouble when we go home,” Mio said laughing.

Elias followed suit. “I’ll make sure they aren’t too harsh.”

The pair then stood up, Elias brushing dirt off of his pants and Mio shaking twigs and leaves from their hair. 

As the two began to walk toward their home, Mio noticed something that sounded like words being carried on the breeze. The rambling was speaking too fast for them to make sense of anything, but they understood that it was in Elvish. Their eyebrows knitted together, perplexed, and they turned in the direction the wind was coming from. Out of all the jumbled nonsense, two words stood out to them, repeated over and over.

_“Bana… fen...”_

_“Fen... fen’bana...”_

“Mio?” Elias asked, much farther ahead than Mio realized he was.

When Elias spoke, the wind silenced to a warm, idle draft. Mio blinked, wondering if they had just imagined the words, their mind clinging onto an immature game they didn’t know they were playing.

“I’m sorry,” they caved with a grin, “I thought I heard something.”

Elias shrugged his shoulders and continued walking in the opposite direction of the whispering. Mio remained dumbfounded for a beat, then two, then three, before jogging to catch up with their brother, looking over their shoulder once they did. 

When glancing back into the dense forestry, Mio expected to see something, a spirit of some sort. However, nothing was out of the ordinary. What was new, though, was a distinct pull that wasn’t there before. The forest had always felt like a second home, but this force was more ancient. Mio was unaccustomed to the feeling, but strangely, it didn’t seem to harbor ill-will towards them, just a pointed interest.

Something in the forest had sunk its teeth into their psyche and wouldn’t let go until they went back into the woods to explore. A fierce curiosity was now rooted deep into the elf, but the babbling would have to wait for now. Their brother was moving away, and they both had to grow up a little more. It was best if they focused on that.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all elvish used in this chapter and later chapters is based on [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/series/229061) by [FenxShiral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenxShiral/pseuds/FenxShiral). it's an incredible resource, i recommend anyone and everyone check it out if you're obsessed with fictional linguistics like i am


	2. buonanotte e sogni d'oro.

Before Mio had even opened their eyes, they felt something watching them intently. The sound of harsh, winter winds whipping around them filled their ears. The air had a ferocious bite, burning the insides of their nostrils as they breathed. Finally opening their eyes, they saw a picturesque view of an icy wonderland. The trees had shed their leaves and their branches were covered in frost. Taking a closer look at their surroundings though, Mio realized this wasn’t the forest of their youth; it was unfamiliar, yet something akin to comfort bloomed in Mio’s chest the farther they walked into the whiteness.

As they wandered, a soft sound came to their ears, like flour being spread on dough. They glanced over their right shoulder and nothing was there. But the sound remained as they continued; they looked over the other shoulder and they saw a flash of bright red against the brown and white of the forest floor. Ice-cold fear spread from Mio’s stomach into their legs and arms. They turned in full to see a trail of red roses sprouting up where they had left footprints in the snow. They smiled, letting out a small giggle for being needlessly afraid, then crouched down to pick up one of the flowers. The moment they touched a petal, the sound of wind in their ears was replaced by whispers, all distinct and different from each other.

_“Da’gra… da’gra…”_

_“Miol…_ come back to us, little star… _”_

_“_ Are you afraid of wolves _, da’gra...?”_

Mio’s head whipped behind them to find the source of the voices. In doing so, they tripped over their own feet, making them land face-first into the ground. Where their hands touched the path, more roses sprung up. Scrambling to get away from the blooms, they left the path and leaned against a large boulder off to the right. They lay against the rock, catching their breath. The murmuring had stopped for now which, strangely, didn’t ease Mio’s discomfort. The sudden lack of voices was becoming unnerving as time dragged on. 

Hesitantly, Mio stood up and walked toward the path. Bending down to touch a rose again, they flinched as the babbling began before they even touched the flower. 

“Come to the forest, _da’gra_...”

“Find us, _miol_ , find us...”

Mio shook their head, hoping in vain that would make the voices stop. Their attempt only made the voices laugh, a mixture of high, lilting shrieks and low, rumbling chortles filling their head. Groaning loudly, they lay on their side on the ground, cushioning their head with their hands. They closed their eyes again, focusing on the sound of the wind and flowers springing up next to their fingers, purposefully ignoring the whispers. Then, a clear, recognizable voice cut through the white noise.

“Mio, what are you doing out here?” their brother’s soft voice asked.

Mio sat up, eyebrows coming together in confusion. They tried to call out to him, but no sound came out, his name dying in their throat. They stood up, hastily dusting snow off their clothes. Mio’s eyes scanned the trees in front of them for any indication of where Elias was. Nothing. 

“Mio!” his voice rang clear.

Immediately, Mio ran after the phantom voice, trying to find its source. The whispers grew louder in their head, cackling violently and blocking out the sound of Elias. The thought crossed Mio’s mind that if they found Elias, the voices would go away. Faster they ran, not paying attention to the seemingly random changes in direction his voice would take. First to the north, then to the east, then north again.

“Come home, Mio,” Elias said, “it’s much too cold to be out here alone.”

_Alone_ , Mio thought. The feeling of eyes hadn’t left their consciousness. It made the hairs on the back of their neck stand up and goosebumps form on their arms. 

Mio then came to an abrupt halt, putting their hands on their knees to catch their breath. They took note of how quiet the forest was now; the wind had stopped blowing, birds were silent, and the voices had softened. The only sound was Mio’s labored breathing making small clouds of air in front of them. 

They righted themself, taking a look around them. The trees were denser here, with more snow covering them; they seemed to curve inward, towards each other, to form a sort of cone around Mio. Turning from side to side, Mio couldn’t tell a difference from one section of the forest from the other. They were identical. The only way Mio could tell where they’d come from was by the trail of roses leading behind them.

“Mio?” the voice of Elias came once more.

Mio’s head snapped in that direction, thinking they saw the flip of his long hair in the distance.

The voices returned. “ _Mya! Mya,_ little star.”

“Let’s go home, Mio.”

Mio followed the voice, no longer running. It felt strange to chase the sound, especially in a place that was unfamiliar to them. And the voice wasn’t going anywhere, at least based on their observations, as long as they continued after it. 

The scenery hadn’t changed, Mio noticed after a few minutes. Though they knew they were walking forward, the trees repeated themselves. The rocks emerged in the exact same spots. Grass poked out from the snow in the same formations, at identical angles. Stopping, Mio turned behind them, only to see the trail of roses had disappeared; any indication that there had ever been a trail was gone. Panic set in then. Their heart began to race as they began walking in the direction they thought the roses once were, but had they turned right here or at the stones farther ahead? 

Mio stilled, wrapping their arms around themself. Screwing their eyes shut, they tried to listen for Elias’s voice again. The responding silence was deafening.

They sat down next to a tree, pulling their knees up to their chest and placing their head in the space between. Hot, thick tears fell down their cheeks one at a time, then in pairs. Silent sobs shook their shoulders. Over the sound of their crying, Mio heard the distinct noise of boots crunching leaves and snow appear behind them. Too exhausted to look up, they quieted their sniffling and stilled their shaking. 

The figure walked up behind them, then bent down in front of them, letting out a small chuckle.

“What are you doing sleeping in the woods?” Elias whispered to them. 

Mio looked up then, opening their mouth to explain, but no one was there. They craned their head around the trunk of the tree, but not even footprints were left in the snow. They curled into themself, resuming their previous position, laying against the tree. 

The sound of crunching snow came back, this time from in front of Mio rather than behind them. The hairs of Mio’s arms stood up, registering a presence they couldn’t see. The apparition hummed quietly, then made a _tsk tsk_ sound with their tongue. 

“Are you giving up already?” Elias asked.

Mio only pressed their body closer to the tree in response.

He— no, Mio thought to themself— _it_ chuckled again with their brother’s voice before petting their hair. “Has the despair set in yet?”

A disconnect formed in Mio’s mind; the things the being said were cruel, yet Elias was saying them. Rather, a facsimile of him, not the real thing. An imitation, Mio reminded themself. It felt real, though. The weight in their hair was tangible, grounded in reality; if Mio simply reached up their hand, they imagined they would feel an arm with a wrist attached. Mio curled ever tighter into a ball, trying to move away from the thing pretending to be their brother.

“There’s no need to be afraid, Mio,” the imposter began again, “not of me.”

Its tone was so sickeningly sweet, so _genuine_ , that Mio was tempted to look up. How easy it would be to just rely on their older brother as they have been for so long. It began petting Mio’s hair again, humming a lullaby their mother had sang to them as a child. The tune was normally comforting, but coming from _him_ , it was wrong. The notes were slightly pitched up, pauses between words were too long or too short. It sounded as if he had just learned how to sing, and was overly eager to show it off. It no longer was a song meant to soothe children, but rather something you would use as a threat without being upfront about it. Hearing it made the blood in Mio’s veins turn to ice.

The thing sighed. “You won’t get out of the forest if you lay here sleeping.”

Mio’s shoulders slumped, betraying the exhaustion they were beginning to feel. Their hands dropped from around their knees and fell into their lap. They hadn’t noticed how cold it was until now, the chill settling deep into their bones, making the tips of their ears hurt and their body shake. Involuntarily, Mio began to cry again, one tear at a time.

“Oh, don’t cry.” Its words were coated in honey, like a trap meant to catch flies. Mio’s stomach twisted and turned in on itself from hearing them. The thought crossed their mind that they were _supposed_ to feel this way, to be tempted, lulled into a sense of security. Like the imposter’s words were meant to be overly sweet, causing a stomach ache. The hand in their hair tightened its grip.

  
“All you need to do is _wake up_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully, i can settle into a rhythm and follow a posting schedule. that is, my plan is to post new chapters on fridays! i apologize if it seemed there was a long gap between this chapter and the first. i'm trying to get used to my schedule as well.


	3. winter morning i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woo-hoo! school has started again for me, so if the posting schedule gets a little bit off and starts to be a little wonky, i apologize in advance, haha. i don't imagine that i'll get off schedule, but i'll try to make up for it! 
> 
> i've been considering creating a tumblr/twitter acc, not just because of this fic, but i imagine interactions would be easier if i had one or both. i like giving out wips of future projects as well! if you guys have any suggestions or would like to see that, leave a comment!
> 
> also! if anyone would like my playlist for this fic... i would be willing to drop that...

_5th Harvestmere_

_Dear Mio,_

_I’ve never spent autumn near the coast. It’s quite different than what I expected, much colder, so I don’t think you’ll like it. The smell of the sea has become quite comforting. I hope Cullen doesn’t get any ideas from it though, he’s already begun to think himself a sailor. I don’t mind him with wind-swept hair though, it suits him._

_I hope you will come to visit me soon. I know Mama and Papa are hesitant about you traveling alone, but you can handle it. Just another change they’ll have to adapt to, right? Cullen wishes to see you as well. He seems to think you two got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure that has nothing to do with you glaring daggers into him whenever he visited us._

_Oh, I nearly forgot to mention the dog. We found a Mabari puppy near the docks; she was a miserable thing, all skin and bones. She’s much fatter now, well-kept. Very excitable. You’ve never seen a Mabari, so at the very least, you should come up north for her. You two would make quite the pair._

_Tell Mama I’m eating enough, I know she’s worried,_

_Elias_

* * *

  
  


Mio ran their fingers over the parchment in slow, absentminded motions. They didn’t need to read the letter to know what it said, they had read it enough times for that. They threw a berry from the bowl next to them into the air, caught it in their mouth, then read the letter again. If they focused enough, they could almost smell the sea-salt air that comes off the ocean. 

Their eyes lingered on a single word: Mabari. Mio vaguely remembered Elias telling them about something called a Mabari when he moved in with their family. Like a wolf, he had said, but squatter, with rounded ears. Mio had laughed, saying that no such creature existed. Elias had promised to show them one someday. 

Mio sighed, leaning back against the roof of their small house. They had been spending more time on the roof rather than in the trees; they hadn’t noticed until now, but climbing trees was more fun when someone was there yelling at you to come down. 

It had been three months since Elias moved to Highever, one month since he had sent the letter. Mio found he’d been right about one thing: the house hadn’t lost its cheer when he left. Mama still made pastries and reprimanded Mio about cleaning behind their ears. Baba still taught Mio what magic he knew and told them stories at dinner. Mio still wandered the forest, befriending Halla and carving their name into tree trunks.

However, there was something different about the forest. The air had a new quality, like someone had replaced a thin blanket with a heavy quilt. No matter how hard they tried, Mio couldn’t resist the newfound pull. Every day, they found themself exploring parts of the forest they’d never seen before, despite living there their entire life. Time seemed to pass strangely in the woods as well. What felt like a few minutes to an hour was actually half the day. 

The whispering hadn’t stopped either.

After a few weeks of incessant murmuring, Mio learned they could sit on their roof and watch the forest from afar. The distance kept the voices quiet, manageable. They got worse at night, though. The dreams were impossible to escape, they could only adjust to their new normal. The voices were near obnoxious in Mio’s dreams, hundreds of voices all talking over each other, trying to pull them deeper into the forest, farther away from home. 

The only thing the voices succeeded in doing was making Mio loathe both their house and the forest; their house was small, cramped, and full of parents who would ask about the darkening spots below their eyes and point out how often they yawned. The forest, despite being the definition of freedom, was becoming suffocating, a pest Mio couldn’t get rid of. 

_“Mioluvun… ena arla…”_

“To the forest, _miol…”_

_“Miol… miol... ena—”_

_“Mioluvun,”_ their father called, _“ena dur.”_

Mio snapped out of their haze. It was dark, much darker than they realized it was. The sun was nearly done setting, painting the sky a pale blue-gray. The bowl of berries was empty, stained with red juice. Mio breathed in slowly through their nose, held it for a moment, then exhaled softly through their mouth before jumping down from the roof.

When Mio walked into their house, their mother was setting down the last utensils on the dinner table, smiling as they walked in the door. The smile devolved into a slight frown when she saw the letter folded neatly in their hand. One of her eyebrows quirked up in a question, her lips forming a frown. Mio attempted to hide the letter, much too late, knowing their mother was judging them. They tried for a sheepish smile to placate her. The blank expression they got made them shrink into themself, the back of their neck growing hot.

“You spent the day on the roof again, _da’len,”_ she said, a hand on her hip.

“I know, _mamae.”_

Their father by then was already seated at the table. “Reading that letter, I suppose.”

He gave them a slow look up then down, his expression unchanging, but conveying his weariness and displeasure all the same. His eyes paused on the letter before letting out a quiet sigh.

The paper burned in Mio’s hand. They rushed out an apology before putting the letter on their bed and sitting down next to their father.

Dinner was silent for a while, nothing but the sound of spoons tapping bowls filling the space. The silence drew more attention to the chattering in the back of Mio’s mind. The voices took advantage of the quiet, becoming overwhelming in their suggestion.

“Visit him… visit him…”

“See your brother, _miol…”_

 _“Da’gra_ wants to see their brother…”

For all the trouble they’ve caused Mio the past few months, the voices were right. Mio missed Elias more than anything. They kept all the letters he sent in a jar by their bed, wrapped tightly in twine, exactly as they came. Their newfound fondness for sitting on the roof helped them listen for the sound of the osprey that came to deliver Elias’s letters. A letter only came about once a month, but that didn’t stop them from scanning the treeline for the white underbelly of the bird.

“Can I visit Elias?” Mio blurted out, interrupting the peace.

Mio watched as their parents had a conversation they couldn’t hear, sentences said purely with eye and eyebrow movements. Mio’s father opened his mouth, then closed it, making a tch sound. Their mother gave them a peculiar look, then forced a smile.

“Is the silence implying a ‘maybe’?” Mio tried.

“You know how we feel about you traveling alone,” their mother began, trying to calm her husband’s rising temper.

Mio stifled a sigh. They chanced a look toward their father, who had a mixture of exhaustion and anger plain on his face. After a beat, they looked away.

 _“Fenedhis,_ Mio, you’re nothing but 18 years old, entirely too young to set out on your own,” their father said for what feels like the hundredth time in three months; his words were clipped and rehearsed, as if he was anticipating Mio’s question before it came. He forced a breath between his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and steadying his breathing, closing his eyes.

“I’ll come back! It’s just a visit!”

Their mother put her hand over theirs, her smile pained. “Let us think about it, _da’len.”_

_“San, san…”_

The rest of dinner was silent again, with Mio looking back and forth at their parents every so often, hoping for a speedy reply that didn’t come.

That night, the voices were strangely quiet, but the air that blew through the window was excited, charged with energy; as if they knew something Mio didn’t, the tree swayed rhythmically, childlike, attempting innocence. The calm didn’t allow Mio a perfect night of rest, though, their mind coming up with explanations as to why the voices had gone away. 

Mio tossed and turned that night, their mind mulling over a thousand answers to why the world was dampened in an uncharacteristic silence. Their ears strained for something, anything, to fill the emptiness, but nothing came. They flopped onto their back with a huff, sighing deeply and staring out the window. The measured back-and-forth of the tree branches just outside their window almost hypnotized them, as if sensing their discomfort and lulling them to sleep. Mio’s eyes grew heavy watching them; it had to be their mind playing tricks on them, but it nearly looked like the branches were snaking through the window, reaching out to them.

When they finally drifted off, they dreamed of a pale elven man kneeling in the forest, lips moving quickly but no sound coming out. He looked concerned, concentrated. His eyebrows were knit close together, his expression pained, as if whatever he was saying was physically painful for him. 

In his right hand was a rose. It was bright, radiant, like it was a source of light itself. Mio’s heart began racing at the sight of it, the unending forest coming back to them. Just then, they noticed a flurry of snow begin to fall. In his left was the jawbone of some kind of animal wrapped in leather. 

After he finished speaking, he looked up, and Mio’s body went cold, as if he were looking right at them. They tried to hide before realizing the man couldn’t see them, they were just watching. He muttered something under his breath, then crushed the rose’s petals, tossing them to the ground. He stood and his eyes glowed a sickly green before shifting to a deep, dark red. 

He said something Mio didn’t understand and a chill ran through their body. His eyes flashed red once again, then, all at once, the world faded to black.

Only then did the voices return, giggling like children who had found a jar of cookies, whispering the same phrase until Mio woke up.

“Found you… found you… _found you…”_


	4. beyond hill and dale.

The night sky stretched on like an ink stain blotting parchment, a dusky cloak that absorbed any and all light that dared peek through. From their position on the roof, Mio could admire the beauty in the darkness; they’d come to despise nighttime because the incessant whispering that filled their head was amplified in the quiet. It was always quiet at night, so the voices became bolder then. Scheming, sneaking, salivating like a rabid dog over a piece of rotting meat.

They forced themself to unclench their jaw, taking a slow breath in, then releasing it out through their mouth. 

Opening their eyes once again, they scanned the dense forestry laid out in front of them. For the first time in a while, they felt a genuine sense of tranquility. The wind blowing through tree branches didn’t sound threatening. Owls and night birds cooing in the distance weren't menacing. The voices were behaving themselves, almost sounding like they cared about Mio.

They soaked it in, stretching and cracking their knuckles. They took another slow breath, in then out, in… then…

The snapping of a branch.

The buzzing chorus of cicadas.

The fluttering and flapping of a flock of birds taking flight.

Mio sat up, straining their ears for more details, then the forest was silent once more. It was like they imagined the sounds to make the too-peaceful night more interesting. They lay back down, crossing their hands under their head, pretending to be relaxed. Their heart began pounding in their chest, hands shaking with adrenaline. They closed their eyes to ground themself, paying attention to the smell of dirt and wood smoke, feeling the soft moss roof under their arms. The voices got excited when Mio was distressed; the best way to keep them in check was to _remain calm._

“Is _da’gra_ afraid of birds now?”

_“Ma enas gelas… gelas…”_

“Do you think _birds_ can hurt us?”

Mio sighed, opening their eyes. They couldn’t tell what time it was, but they knew that it was late. From how dark the sky was, it was safe to assume it was past midnight, maybe past one. Their parents had to be deeply asleep by now. Looking out into the nighttime landscape of the forest in front of them, Mio felt a strange desire to go into it, to uncover secrets they believed to be right under their nose. Mio stared at the forest and something unseen was staring back.

Their eyes widened at the passing thought, then immediately shut them, ignoring it. Not fast enough though, as the voices took notice and started chattering excitedly. Mio stopped themself from letting out a groan lest they wake up their parents.

_“Dirthala, da’gra…”_

“Come closer, little star…”

“They can not stop you…”

Mio looked up at the sky, rolling their shoulders as if the voices were physical beings attached to them. The taste of something sweet filled their mouth though nothing was there. Warmth spread from the base of their skull, down their neck and over their chest, filling them with courage and confidence. Mio snorted as the apparitions attempted to push them toward the forest, trying to be helpful in a way they deemed so. In the back of their mind, Mio felt something trying to pull them back, rooted in the foundation of their home. It was so small, so insignificant, that Mio barely registered it. The honey-like sensation overwhelmed them once more, drowning the force in false bravery.

They jumped off the rooftop, landing light on their feet, barely making any noise in the grass. They jogged a short distance before looking back at their house; moonlight outlined the cottage, giving it an ethereal glow. All soft white and rounded edges; it was safe. Mio turned to the forest in front of them, trees so dense it swallowed any light that entered. They only saw a distinguishable path from the glowing mushrooms that outlined it, but the glow was less welcoming, harsher and unnatural. 

Still, they walked into the forest, nearly unafraid.

* * *

Mio figured the forest during the day would be the same as the forest at night; the cold, prickling feeling running down their back and neck let them know that assumption was wrong. They couldn’t shake the thought that something among these plants meant to do them harm, though they couldn’t pinpoint what. The wind in the leaves took on a strange humming, almost singing quality, making it sound like a thousand voices were harmonizing some dangerously sweet tune. 

The further they walked, the giddier the voices sounded, chuckling and chortling. Mio understood their happiness: venturing alone into the woods at night was the most satisfaction Mio had given them thus far. The realization made them roll their eyes, continuing ever forward.

The wind grew slightly violent, making the disembodied choir sound more frantic. The hairs on Mio’s arms stood up in response, their consciousness suddenly telling them this was a bad idea. The voices took note of Mio’s growing hesitation, becoming louder with the wind, whispering wanton and meaningless affirmations, promising they were doing the right thing.

_“Dhrua, miol!”_

“Trust us, little one…”

“You’re so close, _da’gra…”_

Mio kept walking, becoming more hesitant with each step. Their eyes darted back and forth, trying to predict an incoming threat before it came. The wind began to settle and the singing quieted into nothing more than a soft hum. The path had fewer and fewer mushrooms as they went on, their surroundings becoming darker and darker. The tops of the trees bled into the sky, only the twinkling white of the stars differentiating the two.

A flash of red entered the corner of their eye. Mio whipped their head around to identify whatever the source was, but by the time they’re looking in that direction, it was gone. The distinct feeling of being watched returned to them, heavy, clinging to them like wet wool. Their eyebrows knit close together, deciding against calling out to it.

Another flash of red, this time three glowing eyes stacked on top of each other, staring right at them, unblinking. 

“Hey!” Mio called.

Three more red eyes appeared, opposite the first set. Each one blinked, slowly, taking its time examining them. 

Mio felt frozen, afraid of moving for fear of what the creature might do. The scrutinizing gaze made them shrivel into themself, trying to take up less space so it would have less to pick over. It was then that Mio noticed how the voices had gone quiet, seemingly disappeared. 

Raising their hands, Mio asked, “Are you going to eat me?”

The creature didn’t react or make any indication it understood what Mio had said. Mio began to breathe faster; if the creature wasn’t at least sentient, then it was wild. A wild animal acted on instinct rather than reason, which meant that the likelihood of Mio leaving the forest as a mangled corpse had shot up exponentially.

They tried desperately to calm their uneven breathing, to still their shaking hands and quell their sudden dizziness. The voices returned then, not saying anything, only laughing and cheering in Mio’s head. The wind started blowing in the trees faster, the soft hum erupting into an overloud chorus. 

Then, one by one, the red eyes shut until none were left. Mio flexed their toes, relieved they could move again. 

_“Mya, mya, mya!”_

Mio started shaking their head before noticing a thin sliver of moonlight tracing a path, cutting through the vegetation and deeper into the forest. It seemed to pull on them, the singing becoming softer as they walked towards it.

_“Tamahn… mya?”_ Mio asked.

They took the giggling as an affirmative.

Following the moonlit trail, a sense of unfamiliarity swept over Mio. They knew inherently that they were in a part of the forest they’d never been in before. Though they couldn’t see well, the moon and stars provided some source of light. It seemed wilder here, like the plants were able to roam freely among the land. There was a noticeable physical quality to the air, a low thrumming one could hear if you paid close attention, as if it was holding something or full of something. It felt dangerous.

The voices had once again quieted, letting Mio follow the path in peace. They weren’t sure where the path led, but the pull hadn’t let up yet, so they continued to walk. 

The absence of muttering amplified the other sounds of the forests. The heavy air wheezed through the branches. Birds no longer sang, but rather shrieked. Tree trunks groaned and cracked, hiding something from view. Something was present in the cover of night, staring daggers into Mio’s back. And it made sure Mio noticed. 

Again, they saw a flash of red. Thinking it was the creature from before, they started running in the direction of the color, calling after the thing. Another flash and they followed. They chased yet deeper into the woods until they came to a clearing.

The plants stayed away from the middle of the clearing, allowing for a large dirt circle to be bathed in moonlight, making it look like a silver lake. Mio rushed to a stop at the edge of it, noticing the thin line of light was gone. Panting, they looked around for the creature’s glowing eyes. On the opposite side of the clearing, all six were present, unblinking, and holding Mio to their spot. 

Each eye blinked slowly, languidly, before the creature stepped into the pool of moonlight, revealing itself at last.

A giant, hulking wolf presented itself to Mio, six glowing red eyes trained on them. Its pelt was blacker than black, the moonlight disappearing when it touched the fur. Its nose twitched, breathing quick, indignant puffs of air. It paced back and forth in the clearing, the eyes never leaving them.

Mio swallowed thickly, feeling sweat run down their chest despite the freezing temperatures. They tried to step back into the safety of the trees, but their feet were stuck in place. Simply staring at the wolf made their throat squeeze, constricting their breaths, and bile rise in their throat. But strangely, Mio wasn’t afraid that the wolf would kill them. The gaze felt curious in a way, like a baby examining a new toy. 

Before they could stop themself, Mio took a single, heavy step towards the creature. When the wolf didn’t react, they took another, then another, until they were standing right in front of it. The wolf lowered its head in order to be eye level with Mio, nostrils flaring, breathing a warm breath onto their face. Its eyes blinked once in harmony, then stared at the elf, waiting.

Everything in Mio’s body was screaming at them to run; this was a mistake, and if they ran fast enough, they could make it back home with all their limbs attached. As they raised a hand to the wolf, the voices began cackling, mad and shrill. Mio noticed how badly their hand was shaking, their fingers curled inward, almost making a fist. The moonlight bouncing off the wolf’s six eyes seemed safe, as safe as a beehive did to a bear. Ever forward they reached, painstakingly slow, trying to gauge the wolf’s reaction. It puffed another hot breath onto Mio’s face.

Mio’s hand was inches away from the beast’s snout. It cocked its head to one side as if it was asking a question. One finger at a time, Mio laid their hand on the wolf’s padded nose. The creature kept staring, never betraying a single emotion. A beat passed, then two, then three before the wolf ducked its head, removing Mio’s hand from its nose. It turned around, doing one more lap around the clearing before retreating into the forest ahead. The eyes glowed once more in the darkness, before disappearing one by one.

With its departure, the spell had been lifted on Mio. The gulped down breaths like their ability to breathe would be taken from them again that night. The adrenaline had left their veins, leaving them tired. 

The voices were still laughing, though more lucid.

“Oh, _miolain…”_

Once they caught their breath, they looked around, remembering they were in the forest, much farther than they’d ever been. Mio’s shoulders ached, their lungs were sore, and every time they blinked, they weren’t sure if their eyes would open. 

They turned around and saw the moonlit trail had returned, hopefully leading them out of the forest. Trusting the path to lead them home as it had led them here, Mio ran as fast as they could manage until they were in a familiar part of the forest. Once they gained their bearings, relief flooded through them, thinking over and over, _I’m almost home._

“Not home, _da’gra…”_

Mio tripped over an errant tree root, nearly colliding with the ground before catching themself and continuing their pace. 

“What?”

The voices barked out a cruel laugh. A sinking, hollow feeling settled into their stomach. The faint realization that the voices in their head knew something they didn’t— and were keeping it from them— made Mio sick. Still, they had to get home. Shaking their head, they tried their best to ignore the comment; they wouldn’t allow the voices any more satisfaction than they’d already been given. They knew where they were, where they were going. 

Soon, they saw their house in the distance. The moonlight still outlined it, making it glow as if it was a beacon in the dark. A childlike giddiness bloomed in Mio’s chest. They had to stop themself from laughing. Slowing their pace when they got close enough, they thought it better to go around the back of the cottage as quietly as possible.

When they reached the window that was located over their bed, a feeling of safety washed over them. Climbing through the window, they landed on their bed in an unceremonious heap, their shoulders relaxing at the feeling of a quilt and pillow beneath their head. They crawled into bed, trying their best to mask a grin, before curling in a ball and letting out a relieved sigh. 

Then, they dreamed of nothing.


	5. castle in the mist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to [ badlydrawn ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlydrawn) for helping me edit this chapter on such short notice. you're literally keeping me going throughout this whole process; i don't know what i would do without you!

At the edge of Mio’s mind, a wild warbling interrupted their slumber, forcing them awake before they wanted to be. They rolled over on their side, facing the wall. The sun shone softly onto Mio’s bed, bathing them in warmth, safe and sound. Ignoring the noise, they began drifting back to sleep.

_ “Da’gra, thena.” _

“Your journey begins,  _ miol…” _

_ “Radalas! Shira, shira!” _

Mio shot up, cursing loudly. A woodpecker that had been perched on a branch next to the window flew away, frightened by the sudden noise. Grumbling came from across the cottage, signaling to Mio that they’d woken up their parents. 

“Sorry!” they said, standing up and stretching. Their arms raised above their head, leading the cotton tunic that covered them to reveal a thin strip of dark brown skin. The young elf ran a hand through their hair in an attempt to tame their long mane.

“It is too early to be this lively,” came the voice of their mother, “even for you,  _ da’len.” _

_ “Miol,  _ was the woodpecker that troublesome?” their father grumbled, his expression betraying the underlying joke.

A small giggle left Mio’s lips. They turned to make their bed, folding the quilt and placing it at the foot of the bed. Their mother was already positioned at the stove, preparing to start breakfast. A look to the other end of the cottage showed their father still wrapped in blankets, glaring at the sun as if that would make it go away.

They moved toward the kitchen, grabbing a peach from a bowl of fruit. They met their mother in front of the stove, taking a woven basket that was shoved toward them. Inside the basket was a list of things to collect, herbs and the like.

Mio gave their mother a questioning look. They tilted their head to one side; usually, they would at least get to eat breakfast before being sent to do chores. She only gave an inconspicuous smile in return. 

Shaking their head, they leaned to kiss their mother on the cheek. They tossed their father an apple, smiling when he caught it. The thought crossed Mio’s mind that something was amiss as they stepped out the door, but the temptation to ignore any negativity exceeded the desire to succumb to it. The young elf then looked at the list of items then started in the direction of the wilderness.

Venturing into the forest was exciting, feeling once again as if the wilderness was a second home. They strode through the underbrush confidently, head held high. A strange boldness coursed through their veins, allowing them to appreciate the forest for what it was rather than what it could be hiding. The forest wasn’t so intimidating now; the night before, Mio had relished in a dreamless sleep and woke up feeling refreshed. The voices had stayed relatively quiet throughout the night and morning, leaving Mio feeling relaxed.

After two hours, the basket was filled to the brim with an assortment of herbs, wildflowers, and fruits. Mio was crouched down, distracted by a bunch of flowers waving invitingly in the wind, when the basket began shuffling away from them. They looked up and locked eyes with a small halla, eyes large and dark. 

Mio smiled at the creature, offering it dandelion stems. “Hello,  _ hallain.” _

The halla bent its head to eat the plants, then pressed its nose into Mio’s hand. Mio smiled even more, running their hand over the soft, white fur of its head. Then, a larger halla emerged from between the trunks of the trees. Mio bowed their head to the creature and stood up, allowing the baby to return to its mother. 

Mio watched the pair for as they walked away, seeming to glide along the ground rather than walk. They noted how the larger halla would stop and sniff plants every so often, trying to teach the smaller one to do the same. Mio smiled. They supposed that even animals could appreciate nature’s beauty. Once the creatures were far enough away, Mio’s eyes were drawn to their basket, forgotten on the ground next to them. Picking up the basket, they felt satisfied that there were enough items left to be sufficient for their mother.

As they walked back to the cottage, the contrast between the forest now and the night before unnerved them. The normalcy put Mio on edge. Subconsciously, they longed for the sense of calm that had previously enveloped them. Despite the strange feeling, birds sang in the branches. A brook babbled nearby. And the voices remained quiet. Mio felt as if something was watching them, though every time they turned to look behind them, nothing was there. The elf shook their head, chiding themself at the paranoia. 

When Mio entered their home, both of their parents’ heads immediately snapped toward them. The sudden movement made Mio take a step back, nearly dropping the basket.

“Am I in trouble?” Mio asked sheepishly.

Their parents only glanced at each other, then continued staring at Mio. Their mother had a wide, close-mouthed smile plastered on her face with her hands together in front of her face. Their father’s face remained neutral, save for the emotions his eyes betrayed. Hesitantly, Mio walked up to the kitchen table and set the basket down, handing the list of items back to their mother. They gave her a nervous smile, turning to their father who averted his gaze. 

Mio nervously let out a breathy laugh. Backing away slowly, they moved to sit on their bed. Their eyes then widened in surprise while a large grin took over their features.

On their bed was a velvet cloak made of red fabric. The inside was lined with thick cotton twill, dyed the same color as the outside. There were two pockets on the sides and the hood had black fur sewed onto the edge. The cloak looked so fine, Mio was afraid to touch it. The plush material looked like something out of a story. Kneeling in front of their bed, they traced the hem of it with their finger, gasping at the softness. 

“I made you a new quilt as well,” their mother said, her smile audible.

“Mama, I already have a quilt,” Mio whispered, still recovering from the shock, “and this cloak, why would I need…”

Their father chuckled. “We hear it gets quite cold near the coast of Ferelden.”

The words hit Mio slowly, one at a time. Suddenly, Mio’s eyes went wide as they whipped their head around to face their parents. Their mouth made an O-shape before splitting into a wide grin. They ran to envelop their mother in a tight hug, laughing uncontrollably. They bowed to their father before being pulled into a warm embrace.

_ “Ma serannas, babae.” _

_ “Dareth shiral, da’len.” _

The next hour went by in a whirlwind. Their mother helped them pack, stuffing the new quilt and plenty of warm clothes into a basket. The basket could barely close, their mother worrying about them running out of things to wear on their journey. Mio got the feeling their mother was trying to stop herself from changing her mind. The young elf watched as she fretted from one part of the cottage to another, failing at holding in laughter.

On top of the clothes was a handkerchief full of fruit and next to that was two loaves of freshly baked bread. In another smaller container, Mio’s mother had packed lemon tarts and elderflower cookies for Elias, along with a note rolled neatly on top with the recipes. 

Once everything was packed, Mio's mother turned her attention to them, forcing them to sit in front of her so she could braid their hair. As they sat, Mio felt like a small child again; their eyes fluttered closed as the feeling of fingers worked to style the springy waves into something manageable. She took her time detangling the thick curls, brushing it carefully and gently. Her fingers moved quickly as she braided, in practiced motions until Mio’s long hair was in two braids down their back.

When their mother was satisfied with their hair, Mio wrote out a letter to Elias. The penmanship was messy, Mio’s hand barely able to hold the pen in their excitement. They wanted him to know the news as soon as possible, to know they’d finally grown up. 

Once it was finished, they whistled, calling for the bluejay that usually sent their letters. They attached the letter to the bird’s foot and leaned out the window to watch as it flew off. In the pocket of the cloak, Mio placed Elias’s letters, a container of ink, a few sheets of parchment, and two quills. 

Their father handed them a list of directions. “Follow these exactly. You should arrive at Highever in a little over a week.”

He then gave them a small pouch filled with coins, placing it in the empty pocket. His hand rested on their shoulder, giving them a smirk. Placing his forehead to theirs, Mio’s father whispered a quick, “Be careful,” before pressing a kiss to the spot where his forehead had been.

Behind him, Mio’s mother was dabbing at the corners of her eye with her apron, smiling proudly. 

_ “Da’len,  _ little firefly, all grown up,” she said, voice thick with emotion. 

Mio gave her a small grin, putting on the cloak and showing it off. They hugged her once more, squeezing her tightly and kissing both her cheeks. 

“Don’t miss me too much,  _ mamae.” _

_ “Dareth shiral,  _ be safe,” Mio’s mother smoothed back the stray hairs that escaped the braids.

They walked toward the door, then out, standing in front of their home. Mio bounced on the balls of their feet, brimming with excitement. The air around the forest seemed different to them, beckoning them closer like a challenge. A wave of relief swept through them, comforting by the feeling they’d had earlier that morning. Mio grinned, excited to take it on; they were ready to prove themself to whoever doubted them. They turned behind them where their parents were standing in the doorframe. 

“Send a letter as soon as you arrive,” their father attempted to sound stern, but his smile betrayed his true feelings.

“I will.”

“Wear your cloak when it gets too cold!” their mother was still dabbing at her eyes.

“I will.”

Their mother came up to them and adjusted their cloak, smoothing down stray hairs again, making Mio laugh.

_ “Mamae _ , don’t worry! I will be safe and wear my cloak and send a letter as soon as I arrive. The bluejay will find me.”

Waving back to their parents, carrying two baskets stuffed with goods, they began their journey south toward the Brecilian Passage. 

_ “Dareth shiral, dareth shiral…” _

Mio stumbled to a halt. They were so caught up in the excitement, they’d nearly forgotten about the voices. Anger began to rise in them at the mocking nature of the comment, wishing they would hush again. So far, they’d been quiet, nothing but a gentle hum at the back of Mio’s mind. The humming became a song, the singing became words, and the words wrapped around them like a snake constricting its prey. 

“He won’t be happy you’re coming…”

“Ah,  _ da’len,  _ he will be happy to see you!”

Mio was confused at that. The voices didn’t usually make sense, words rambling and running over each other, but they didn’t contradict themselves. The sound of giggling filled their head as Mio attempted to parse the meaning. They sighed, giving up. They were going to see their brother, that’s what mattered. The voices would soon go away and life would be back to normal. 

Still, the feeling of eyes returned as they settled into their journey. They couldn’t tell whether the presence meant harm or good, only that it was uncomfortable and invasive; it was as if they were being analyzed by something incredibly large. Mio felt small, the forest looming out in all directions. Birds chirped wildly. The wind made the treetops sway to and fro. Branches snapped under the heavy feet of bears. The voices babbling nonsense added to the cacophony. 

Somehow, though, it calmed Mio, letting them know they weren’t alone. Something was watching them, yes, but the rest of the forest was watching them as well. Bears, salmon, halla, woodpeckers, worms, and beetles. No matter what was in their home, it was still  _ home. _ The voices began cooing at them, shushing their fears. A cool, feathery sensation dripped down Mio’s back. From the base of their spine, it pooled in their stomach and down into their legs. They began to walk faster, not with fear, but rather with a newfound sense of purpose. It took them a while, but eventually they could name the feeling the voices had gifted them.

Determination.


	6. interlude i.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ah! the first arc has concluded! i figured it would be pretty cool to divide arcs by splicing interludes between them, which will just be shorter chapters that connect the two arcs. what/where will the next arc be? well, let's just say i really like dogs. :)))) and please please check out [ this art](https://www.instagram.com/p/CDfNdbLlg-R/) my lovely wonderful fantastic deserves the world beta (@ellacantart on ig) made of mio! i love it so much aoiqwhdjnckanlkcm wOW

_ 16th Firstfall _

_ Elias! _

_ Mama and Baba are finally allowing me to visit you! By the time you receive this letter, I’ll have begun my journey south to the Passage. And when you do receive this letter, let my bluejay rest for a day or maybe more. I’m sure she’ll be tired by then. _

_ Mama made a new quilt for me, so I don’t think the cold will bother me so much. Tell Cullen I’m coming and we’ll see which of us is the better sailor. I doubt that man has any affinity for the water, he seems more like the land sort. Although, I’ve never seen the ocean, so I’m not sure I would be proficient at sailing either. Don’t tell him that though! _

_ The most important thing I have to tell you, I nearly forgot! Mama sewed me a fancy new cloak for the trip! It’s soft and fine and all red with fur on it. I imagine I look much like a hunter in it, quite dashing if I do say so myself.  _

_ Baba said I should be in Highever in a bit longer than a week. You’ll have to show me everything when I get there. I’d like to see the sea, even if it is cold. I promise to be the vision of diplomacy toward your husband and keep all unsavory looks to myself. _

_ It is of utmost importance that I see this Mabari. You’ve talked about them so highly since I was a child, I hope this one is as magnificent as you make them out to be. Does she have thick fur to help with the cold? Oh, you never even mentioned her name. I bet it’s something ridiculous if that Rutherford had anything to do with it. Warden, or Seeker, or something as equally vapid. Though, I suppose you’re a Rutherford now, so it can’t be too terrible.  _

_ If you saw me now, I think you’d be proud of me. I’ve grown up a bit. All adult-ish and mature like I should be, you know? Still sleep on the roof sometimes, though. Are adults allowed to eat pastry dough from the bowl, or just from the spoon? _

_ See you soon! _

_ Mio _


End file.
